What Goes Around Comes Around
by Burning Ice
Summary: After a slight snafu with a call boy, Sokka finds himself in an unusual position with the Fire Princess. Sokkla Oneshot. Lime.


**Title:** What Goes Around; Comes Around**  
Author:** Burning_Ice**  
Rating:** M**  
Summary:** After a slight snafu with a call boy, Sokka finds himself in an unusual position with the Fire Princess.**  
Beta: **Island Honey

**Words:** 5,200+

**Pairing:** Azula/Sokka  
**..  
…**  
**Disclaimer:** Avatar belongs to it's creators, Sokka belongs to Azula for the hour because she paid up front, and in full.  
**. .**

**...**

**What Goes Around Comes Around****  
****…**

It was official, Sokka decided as he edged carefully down the rain-slicked roof, the Spirit Gods hated him.

How could the gang have been met with such bad luck?! Normal people did not get into these problems. So, why did he?! What karma god had he pissed off to deserve this?!

_Your future is full of struggle and anguish, most of it self-inflicted._

It wasn't fair!! He was trying to save the world!!!

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...

...

It had started less than an hour earlier, when, after a long chase across the woodlands of the Earth Kingdom, he and the rest of the gang had managed to outdistance Azula and her cronies. They had brushed once or twice before that, but not enough for him to remember her clearly --- the girl was mostly a rush of fear and a blur of gold-blue motion to him.

And fire... mustn't forget that.

There had been a storm brewing. So, much to everyone's relief, the lights of the large village of Qing could be seen sprawling beneath them as the rain sheeted down, and Appa dodged the lightning. They found an inn fairly quickly, being that there were several in town, and after Appa had been stabled and the grooms bribed to keep silent about the curious beast, they had all retreated to their room to dry off and warm up.

After dinner, where Toph and Katara bickered while Aang played peacemaker, Sokka had sought out the innkeeper to settle their bill. When he found the older man, however, he was talking to one of the maids in a hushed tone.

"...know who she thought she was, paying in Fire Nation coins for my three best rooms. But with those golden eyes, a man's gotta have a death wish to say no. I hear only the upper class and blood bastards from the nobles have eyes like that!!"

Sokka's heart jumped from his chest to his throat. Azula. Here. In this inn. Where they too were staying. NOT GOOD! Taking a few deep breaths, he forced himself not to panic. It could be a coincidence. There were plenty of Fire Nation citizens out and about in the Earth Kingdom these days, and, if it wasn't her, there was no point in risking Appa's life and limb to flee.

Ever the idea man, Sokka decided the best course of action was to see her for himself. And that was how he had come to his most recent conclusion about the gods, the world, and everything.

...

...

...

Potential-Azula's light was on, but he didn't hear her moving around. She was probably washing up and drying off, just like everyone who had fled the weather. The thought crossed Sokka and he wished he were warm and dry inside, too. The rain soaked him through; the wind had pulled his wolf tail out and was presently whipping the loose strands of his hair across his face like a miniature cat-o-nine-tails. He inched on his stomach like a worm as he peered over the edge of the roof. All the blood rushed to his face in his dangled position.

Still no sign of her.

Finally, with a grunt and heave, he slid his legs onto the railing of her balcony and jumped down, accidentally banging his elbow in the process. Wincing and rubbing distractedly, he crept into the room, glancing around as he held his breath.

Potential-Azula was tossing things around in the changing room irritably, mercifully covering up the sounds of his wet boots on the floor. He checked the bed and dresser for familiar clothing or trinkets --- anything that would identify her. But all her things were still packed in a soaked pile of saddle bags.

Before he could rummage through them, however, someone knocked on the door and a muffled permission to enter was hollered from the bathroom. Sokka found his blood freezing in his veins again; it was probably her two friends…her two _**violent**_ friends. The warrior looked back across the room. He could either try to get to the balcony, or he could stay and fight.

However, instead of the vampire and the cheerleader minion, one of the most beautiful men that Sokka had ever seen opened the door and stepped in, bowing to him politely. The man, who was just as soaked as he was, placed his bag on the floor before looking around, confused.

"I was not informed that there would be a male participant," he tucked a strand of his long hair back, "Will you be participating or watching... or, is the lady going to be watching?"

It suddenly clicked in Sokka's head of who this man was... or rather, _**what**_ he was, and also why potential-Azula was washing up so thoroughly. The man was a whore. Women used a more ambiguous word for it though.

Escort.

Thinking fast, even for him, Sokka, came up with a plan.

"I wasn't informed either!" he exclaimed, scratching his chin, "I had to walk all the way across town from the red lantern district too! I guess the order got mixed up somehow."

"That doesn't make sense, my brothel always gets this inn's business. Madame has a deal with the Tavern Master's wife." The man crossed his arms, angry, but not suspicious. He probably thought that Sokka was some young punk from a rival whorehouse trying to move in on his territory, not that he was making it all up.

"You're right, it's your business, you take it and I'll go."

"What's going on here?!" a voice demanded from across the room.

Azula stood in the threshold between the washroom and the bedroom, her body sheltered by a red and gold robe. There was nothing "potential" about her. He was scared for a minute, but then, seeing that she didn't recognize him, he let himself breathe. When they brushed, she focused solely on the Avatar, and since he posed so little of a threat, she didn't pay Sokka, the non-bender-non-threat-liability, enough mind to have memorized his face. Plus, Katara told him he looked different with his hair down; it softened his features and slimmed his face.

"I'm sorry miss, there seems to have been a mix up." The man bowed again, and Sokka hurried to copy him. No need to seem arrogant.

"I asked the innkeeper to send me a man. How did I get two?" She didn't seem annoyed, just curious.

"Yes ma'am, I'm not sure, he sent a messenger for me." Both turned to Sokka, awaiting his explanation. His brain scrambled for a cover story.

"A girl named Ty Lee asked for me," Sokka stammered. "Said she wanted to surprise you because you seemed tense..."

Azula's frown deepened.

"...and something about your aura, it was getting dingy...or something."

Azula relaxed. He had provided enough character reference for her to buy the story.

"Shall I begin setup, miss, or will you not be requiring my services tonight? I am paid in full for the next eight hours." The other man was shifting back and forth anxiously, worried he would lose his commission. He must not have wanted to seem catty by insulting Sokka, the competition, in front of the client.

"Well, I am spent from a night of chasing phantoms and would rather only have to worry about one caravan wreck instead of two," she scoffed. Apparently, she had little faith in their skills. Walking forward, she circled them both once, as though trying to gauge which one was better in bed by sight.

Sokka prayed to the spirits... you know, the ones that hated him... that she would pick the other man, the actual whore. He had plenty of experience --- living in a tribe of husbandless women or widows in their late twenties and early thirties had given him plenty of practical knowledge. Katara and Gran Gran had kept an eye on him the best as they could, but, fourteen-year-old boys were always wandering off and getting into shenanigans.

"Hmm..."

She was looking at the man-whore, opening his mouth and examining his teeth, his fingernails, his arms.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty five."

Sokka rolled his eyes. The man looked closer to twenty.

She grunted, then stepped away and circled the south man. Sokka swallowed a yelp as he felt a hand grab his bottom and squeeze. The same hand ran up the length of his back to inspect the muscles of his shoulder. Circling around to the front, she used her thumb to open his mouth and peered inside. Then, to his surprise, she leaned in and smelled him before peeking down the front of his shirt.

"You're so tan. Everywhere." She told him, he didn't know if it was a compliment or an insult.

"My clients..." he scrambled for an excuse, "...find me exotic."

This seemed to amuse her, the corners of her mouth curled up at his quip. So the Princess liked balls and sass, or more accurately, he suspected, she enjoyed beating the balls and sass out of a man. _He didn't want to charm her!_ He reminded himself, he wanted to insult her so she would send him away.

"Why are you wearing that?"

"It...um, I was told by the Madame not to damage the nicer fabrics in the mud for such a short engagement."

"You," she gestured to the actual callboy, "my friends are the next two doors down to the left. Pay tribute to them with the remainder of your time." As he left, she caught his wrist and passed him several coins as a bonus tip, "Pay special attention to Mai, the first door, tall, pale, sulky, she has had the most insufferable attitude lately. I expect it to be gone by morning."

Yes. The spirits _hated_ him.

Sokka swallowed, trying to reason with her, "He seems more experienced, and…_prepared_." Just what he had had in his bag was a mystery. Toys? Lotions? Oils? Floggers? Venomous spiders?

His secret theory was that this was about the chauvinism. This was no accident, first Foo Foo Cuddly Poops and meat incident, and now Azula with the chauvinism. Well, he vowed would give up meat, sarcasm, _and _chauvinism if the spirits chose to get him out of this unscathed.

"Don't be coy, I don't find it endearing." Azula told him over her shoulder as she crossed the room to sit in front of her mirror. He watched awkwardly as she tugged the pins out of her hair and let it tumble down her back. It was longer than it looked, cascading most of the way down to her butt.

"Why are you just standing there?" she queried.

"Umm," Sokka scuffed the floor with his toes, "What do you want ---"

"Fetch me my brush. It's in my bags. My hair needs to be tended."

Sokka hurried to comply, grabbing out the intricately carved ivory comb before crossing the room to her. He parted her hair down the center and smoothed it down on either side, all the while she watched him in the mirror. Again and again he went through the motion of grooming her, though, he had long since found and removed all the tangles.

Was he supposed to talk to her?

He couldn't see the harm.

"Ma'am?"

"What now?"

"Why didn't you pick the other man?"

"Perhaps it was the fact that I didn't like the discoloration on his gums. He was clearly unclean, and you passed inspection." She reached back and stilled his brushing hand by grabbing his wrist, "Or perhaps it was because you amuse me."

"Oh." Something clicked, "Wait, you sent a man with a disease...to your friend's room?"

"She will learn the hard way to be less apathetic." Obviously, the Princess did not care about her friend's health. She rotated in her chair around to face him and crossed her legs over the armrest. "Can you do anything else entertaining besides being smart?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Umm..." he brightened, "I can paint."

She sniggered, and Sokka knew enough to understand she was laughing at him, not with him.

"...and poetry." He added, defensively.

"Well! You're a regular artist..." she trailed off, having no name to finish with.

"Wang." Sokka threw out the first thing that jumped to his head, "Wang Fire."

"That's a terrible stage name. I refuse to call you that. What is your birth name?"

Sokka glanced around the room, trying to think of a popular Earth Kingdom name. He must have hesitated too long, because the Princess interrupted his silence.

"Never mind. I grow tired of this idle conversation, peasant." With one smooth motion, she stood and pulled the tie to her robes, letting them fall to the floor in a pool around her ankles.

Sokka didn't mean to stare, it just sort of happened. The girl was a tank! There was nothing soft and delicate about her with maybe the exception of her breasts. She was not feminine and voluptuous like Yue with plenty of fat to keep her warm. She wasn't lithe and toned like his sister. Even Suki's warrior's body paled in comparison to the one the Princess sported. The Princess's muscles were even larger and more defined. Any hourglass shape she might have had was blunted by her impressive obliques which she used to engineer such powerful flips and spinning kicks.

Unlike his sister's under wraps, this girl wore actual tailored underwear that fit her like the shortest pair of pants he had ever seen. Her breasts were bound practically flat; probably to fit under the men's armor she wore. She was almost too androgynous for a man to find her attractive.

Quickly, he looked away, swallowing hard.

And bolted.

He had only made it halfway to the door before she had caught him. She did it with ease, as though this sort of thing happened all the time.

"I expected a more professional attitude," she told him angrily before releasing his collar. He could tell by the way she quickly yanked her robe back over herself that she was stung.

"I..."

"I have lost my mood for the night." She tugged the fabric around her tightly close and tied it. "Leave now."

Sokka glanced at the door, guilt hitting him, but not that hard. He didn't want her to think that he was disgusted by her body, but, he didn't actually like her either. Unfortunately, if he talked himself back into her bed, he would actually have to take her to bed.

"I said leave now!" She repeated. He saw her hands ball into fists. He figured he had all of five seconds before she turned on him and threw a punch. Sokka combed his fingers through his loose hair and opened the door to go. Unfortunately, the hallway was not empty. Ty Lee, the acrobat, was standing several paces down, flirting shamelessly with one of the grooms. She thought he was cute. She would recognize him if he tried to walk past her.

He needed to buy some time.

He closed the door quickly, and pressed his back to it, turning abruptly to face Azula again.

"What now?!" she demanded angrily.

"Look, I'm really sorry I was told I'd be seeing a lady not a warrior you surprised me let me make it up to you do you like massages?" It all came out in one nervous run on sentence.

"No." The Princess informed him, she walked across the room and sat down in one of the chairs. On the plus side, she hadn't ordered him out for a third time.

She wasn't going to make this easy, so, Sokka fell back on his logic. It was a ditch effort: everyone knew you couldn't out-logic a woman because they had their own kind of female logic that didn't have to adhere so strictly to reality...or sanity.

"Why does a Princess like yourself care about a stupid peasant boy's mistake? Things like that should be beneath you." He walked over to her and knelt down in front of her, trying some humility for a change.

Lifting her chin from her knuckles, Azula raised an eyebrow, then, lifted a foot and pressed it into his chest. Sokka took the hint and cradled her heel in one hand while he raised the other to rub circles into the ball of her foot. Unlike her fingers, her toes were neatly cropped short and had no color on them.

"Higher," she told him, and his hands moved from her foot to her ankle, from her ankle to her calf, then, when she jerked her chin up impatiently, from her calf to her thigh. He moved his fingers in slow, small circles and was relieved when she sighed and relaxed backwards into the chair, resting her head on the backrest and closing her eyes.

"Use your mouth." She pointed to her collarbone.

Sokka obediently leaned in and pushed aside the fabric of her robe, lowering his lips to her chest. She tasted as good as she smelled, and Sokka found that he was hardening in spite of himself. All the hatred in the world could not keep his body from responding to the situation. Against his ribcage, he felt her adductors contract and she clamped her legs down and around his waist, pinning his arms to his side and trapping him against her. He gasped as the vice of her legs tightened, squeezing his guts in on each other.

"How did you know I was a Princess?!"

"What?!" Sokka tried futilely to pry her legs off of him, but couldn't budge them.

"I never said I was royalty. _**How did you know**_?"

"You're crushing my organs!"

"Answer my question, peasant!"

There was a loud crack, a blurring of his vision, an unexpected change of angle, and a sudden intense stinging in his face. It took him a moment to realize that he had been slapped. Hard. The eye on the assaulted side of his face began to tear after his shocked system finally cranked into action and began mending the damage.

"I..." Another lie. He needed another lie.

Her fingers closed on his neck, and in a sudden movement that flashed by so quickly he didn't quite remember it, she had him pinned on the ground. Her knees were still locked against his side, even though he arched over her calves uncomfortably. The scuffle had disturbed the perfect knot in her belt, and her robe was sliding open again, shimmying further down her shoulders with each move she made.

"The Lady who hired me --- Ty Lee --- told me you were royalty!" He swallowed as her grip on him loosened, "I just assumed...you know... with your eyes being gold and all."

She let him go and sat back on his hips, playing with her painted lips nervously with her thumb and index finger. It was clear that she didn't believe him, but couldn't find a good reason not to. Finally, she reached under her robe and undid her bindings, letting her breasts loose. She tried to be discreet, but couldn't hide the exhale of comfort and relief as the constriction on her chest vanished. He could plainly see deep red indents in her porcelain skin where the fabric had cut into her as she breathed. It must have been very uncomfortable. Sokka then wondered how cranky he would be if he had to strap his penis down all day.

"Maybe you want to go to the bed?" Sokka offered tentatively. He wasn't sure how it would work, dynamically, if she didn't yield the top to him. He was, however, quite sure she had not paid top dollar for a prostitute to have the luxury of doing all the work. Suki had joked with him during their last meeting that he was not a 'generous lover', and that they would have to work on that together. That worried him more than his current submissive position.

"You. Don't speak. Your sharp tongue isn't as sweet as it was before." She leaned down and tapped her cleavage expectantly, so Sokka reached up to cup them. Teasingly, he ran his fingers over her nipples. Even though they were _**enemy**_ nipples, they seemed to be wired the same, and it wasn't long before Azula sighed, her body relaxing against his contentedly.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

It was odd to see a different side of the girl. A relaxed, sensual side. It was enough to make him a tiny bit sentimental, not to mention curious. Leaning up, he tried to kiss her, but she pressed her fingertips to his lips and roughly pushed him away.

"What is this? Your first night on the job?" She scoffed. Apparently, she didn't kiss whores. Ty Lee had probably gone by now, but, he couldn't think of any other openings to leave. He decided his best course of action was to try to put her into s sex coma, and then sneak out, or get dismissed.

If she fell asleep exhausted, and maybe even sore, his friends could have a good, solid, eight hour lead on her. That was distance they could take full advantage of.

Sitting up to meet her so that he could reach her more easily, he pressed his mouth to her neck instead, alternating between sucking gently and kneading with his tongue and teeth. She whined and ground her hips down onto his erection in wordless encouragement. It was easy to see movements from a normal woman that created pleasant friction would be painful from the hyper athletic noble. The irony was that she probably thought she was being gentle.

Sokka grabbed her hips to help her find a more mutually comfortable level of force, but she stiffened, and caught his hands, directing them back up to her chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her frown, and he quickly resumed faking the foreplay, his mind racing. What else did girls like?

Dipping his mouth lower, he licked a trail down her pectoral muscles to where the hard sinews gave way to the soft swell of her breast. She arched over for him, her lower abs contracting to take the pressure off the small of her back, and Sokka grimaced. Even in the bedroom, she was a warrior, all perfect form and poise. He almost _wanted _to see her writhe and scream his name, it would be satisfying to see her tumble off her pedestal of self-importance and open herself up. Too bad she didn't actually know his name.

Circling his tongue around her nipple once, he drew back and blew on it, the sudden temperature change making the girl on his lap shiver.

_She was a fire bender, _his brain figured out for him, _logically, she would be especially sensitive to temperature change. _Maybe that's what the whore had brought... candles and ice.

He let his hands caress across her back, marveling at the way her shoulders slid this way and that under her skin like tiger sharks below the surface of the water. If he had Katara's anatomy smarts, he could have searched for flaws, muscle tension, old wounds that could be exploited later in a fight, weak points of her body. Since he did not, he simply let his hands drift aimlessly.

By then, the princess had found a grip in his hair, and, when she nudged, he obediently shifted his attentions from one hemisphere to the other. It was a little nerve wracking. Unlike most women, the Princess gave him very little unspoken direction. Usually, he could gauge how he was performing by the moans of his partner. Azula remained stoic, he didn't know if she liked or didn't like something until she clicked her tongue impatiently and verbally corrected him.

Shifting her weight from her knees to the balls of her feet, she rocked backwards smoothly and then stood up. Still straddling him, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her under shorts and slid them down to her knees, wriggling her hips slightly to facilitate. Stepping out of them gracefully, the Princess retreated to the chair, reclining gracefully onto it, one leg looped over one of the arms. Her red silk robe still draped off her shoulders gracefully, and the whole picture looked like an illustration from a romance scroll.

Sokka felt his mouth go dry. It was a most inopportune moment for it too.

"Come here." She beckoned him, curling her long, sharp, red tipped fingers at him. Sokka obliged, crawling on his hands and knees to meet her. He started with her stomach, rubbing his hands across the surface and then lowering his lips to it. There was no unintimidating part of her, and he cringed under the gold stare she pinned him with. He wished she would just rock her head back and close her eyes like an average girl.

Before he could move further, however, someone banged on the door.

"Azula!"

Sokka could tell it was her friend, the stoic one. The Princess grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him off her, casting him to the floor.

"This better be important, Mai." She flung the door open, not bothering to close her robes. If Mai cared, she didn't remark, her eyes didn't even flick down to register it. Sokka stayed on his knees and elbows where he had been dropped, and pressed his forehead into the wooden beams of the floor. Better not to risk being recognized.

The two of them squabbled in a hushed tone for a minute, and then the Princess slammed her door. Obviously, the two of them butted heads a lot, though he was sure that most of the time, the Princess got her way.

"Get in the bed!" She pointed to it irritably, and Sokka, without thinking, scrambled to obey, forgoing grace for speed. The Princess was on him a split second later, straddling his stomach before he had even fallen back into the pillows. She hunched over, grabbing the fastenings of his shirt and pulled them out.

"Ow!" he protested, shrinking into the mattress.

"You know, I've been on a hunt for the past week," she informed him as her fingers made quick work of his tunic. "Every time I get close to my goal, it slips through my fingers like an octopus eel. It's frustrating."

"Oh?" Sokka winced again as the red nails raked violently across his chest.

"It makes me want to hurt someone. I'm not supposed to fail. I _can't_ fail. _I never fail_." His pants were quick to follow his shirt to the floor. She almost sprained both his ankles when she tore his pants and his boots off without unbuckling the holdings.

"Maybe you should take time to --- OW! --- relax in a hot spring or something?" That made her pause, and she frowned at him, almost suspiciously.

"I'm under a lot of pressure." She paused for effect, "Do you know what happens to fire under pressure?"

Sokka swallowed, he knew all too well what happened, but he played dumb. "It relaxes in a hot spring?"

She scoffed, and he felt her grab his loincloth. There was a flash of heat against his hip and a sudden smell of smoke before the Princess pulled the charred wreckage of garment off of him.

He wasn't sure what it was; maybe the fact that she was naked beside her open robe, maybe the danger of being so close to a monster, maybe just the slightly less than sane gleam in her eyes. Something about her though, made the Water Tribesman hot. He wanted to vent some frustrations of his own.

"If you finish before I do," she informed him as she eased herself onto him, "it will be the last thing you _ever_ do."

He knew the threat was good, and he soon found to his relief that he would be able to deliver. Sex with her involved about as much pain, at least for him, as it did pleasure. With every rock of her hips, she jerked his whole body forward, slamming his head painfully into the headboard. Sokka hoped he could get through it without a mild concussion.

When he tried to move so he wouldn't be knocked upside the head with each thrust, Azula dragged her nails across his stomach sharply, breaking the skin. It took a few seconds, but soon enough, little ruby dots emerged along the split skin.

He was relieved when she changed her angle, dropping to her elbows and pressing her forehead into his collarbone. It was the perfect angle to hear her soft whimpers with every movement. If he had been asked an hour earlier, he would have bet money that the sadistic Princess was incapable of whimpering. Instinctively, he reached out and held onto her knees for her, giving her stirrups she could use for leverage.

"Mmm... Sokka." When she finally did collapse on top of him, she whispered his name, the syllables seeming to catch in her throat even as she formed them.

Sokka studied the ceiling as she breathed softly on top of him. He let his palms slide in slow circles around her back, and was surprised at his own inclination to protest as she moved off of him.

Almost immediately, she was back to her old self, though slightly less abrasive. He watched her reach into her saddlebags and leave several coins on the nightstand. A tip for him of course, he was mildly shocked that he had earned one. She retied her robe as he watched, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

"Don't be here when I get back."

He watched her disappear again into her washroom. He stared at the door dumbly before it seemed to register that he was free to go. He grabbed and donned the remains of his clothes, wondering briefly what lie he could tell his sister for her to agree to sew all the tears without becoming suspicious.

He was all the way down the hallway before something struck him, making his stomach drop in his torso and his skin begin to crawl.

She had said his name.

She had said his name _and he had not told her his name_.

The blue flames blossomed over his shoulder, even as he turned to glance back at her room, and he bolted, yelling for his friends at the top of his lungs.

...

The Spirit Gods _hated_ him.  
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**Neither as long or as kinky as I usually write, but, I felt like playing with a pairing that I haven't really before. I just was sort of in the mood to write them, and decided to indulge this little plot bunny.**

**I think it's more lime-y than lemon-y that's for sure, but, whatever.**

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**Anyway, I hope all you Sokkla fans are pleased. I'm really not used to writing them together. I guess you could call this a test drive of the ship for me.**

**I like it, but I don't love it.**

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**Anyways, Review.**


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